


Losing His Religion

by ashangel101010



Series: Coping Mechanisms [2]
Category: Winx Club
Genre: Anger, Gen, One-Shot, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion to "Nothing Can Last Forever, Not Even You" story. Ogron goes into the forest to unleash his bottled-up anger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing His Religion

Losing His Religion

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Suggested Theme:

Main Theme- Losing My Religion by R.E.M.

*

            Impatience, bitterness, coldness, apathy, egoism, and loss is the countenance of Ogron’s fury. He isn’t the type to lash out physically like Gantlos nor mellow out like Anagan. No, he is the kind of man that likes to yell, scream, and rip his vocal cords apart. He doesn’t view it as a temper tantrum like Duman usually claim it is. Funny, Duman would express his anger by grousing AND hitting something (usually a Fairy) like a sulky child. Ogron almost punches a tree in his little brother’s honor since his brother can no longer do that. All he does now is moan in pain and writher like a fever is strangling him. Ogron cannot do anything to ease his suffering short of killing him. He thought (or sincerely believed if you want to give him that much credit) that the Fairies could do something for the ailing shape-shifter. So far they are as useless as they are naïve. Ogron had to get out before he ruined his own plan and killed one of the Fairies to alleviate his frustration. He hates caves, they remind him of a place where serpents dwell and are waiting for their next meal. He walks out with only a glance to Anagan. The speedster is going to walk out soon too, but Gantlos will remain behind and continue his ceaseless vigilance over Duman’s pale, whimpering form.

“Damn, damn, damn, DAMNIT!” He shouted in the forest. The animals, mostly squirrels and hares, flee once they sense the evil and hate in his voice. He doesn’t strike a tree or even stomps on the ground. He simply strolls with stiffness like he is about to go up to a pulpit to preach. The forest is beautiful even if it is owned by Sibylla and her Rustic Fairies. If Anagan was here, he would argue that the forest is under Nature’s will so no one really owns the land. Yet, Ogron doubts that too. The forest is older than him, even older than Sibylla herself. He can tell by how big the trunks are and how the branches were clawing to Heaven.

“God……” He has faith, an unshakable belief in God. He could go down on his knees and prostrate himself to God in hopes that He would somehow save Duman. Or at least send down a miracle. He can’t bring himself to grovel and throw himself at God’s mercy. It goes against his pride and his belief that begging won’t get you anywhere, especially with the Lord. Yet, what can he do for his ailing brother? Should he just take him out back and put him out of his misery? No, he can’t even stomach the act of killing Duman for any reason even if he begged for death. Plus, Gantlos will certainly kill him before that were to happen. Is it possible that once the Earth Fairies are sealed again then Duman will have enough power to get better? Ogron feels extremely hollow.

“Limbo….” That is what this time is right now for the Wizards of the Black Circle. It is a purgatory that is between good and evil, Heaven and Earth, or Earth and Hell. Why can’t time pass so quickly like before? Is it because they weren’t ‘hunters’ anymore? Is it because they have to be sycophants to the Winx Club and later the Earth Fairies in order to achieve their goals? Duman would find this pathetic at kissing up to the Fairies if his body wasn’t wracked in pain that Ogron can only watch. He falls to his knees and pulls at his red locks.

“Home…” He doesn’t have one, and neither does the rest of the Wizards. They all had homes before meeting each other, except for Duman. Ogron’s home is nothing but a gutted corpse of stones. He had a priestly father and a witchy mother, but they loved and raised him. Until they were slaughtered by a half-starved, dirty Fairy. He vividly remembers the Fairy slicing his father’s throat. The pool of blood smeared his father’s thin, gaunt face. His dull, blue eyes were looking at him like he was hoping that his traumatized son would save him instead of God.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUCK, and FUCK! FUCK IT!” Ogron punches and screams at the ground before him. He keeps punching, punching, and punching even when the dirt begins to irritate his open wounds. He screams even more as he finally cracks opens the ground along with breaking his knuckles. He pants heavily from the throbbing in his hands and from his screaming fit. He wants to punch the ground again, ruin his hands for life. It would be his atonement to Duman who might not ever be able to use his hands to kill again. What would be the point in that? He needs his hands to hand the Black Circle over to Morgana so that she may trigger the abyss. Duman would have loved to see the Earth Fairies screaming for help. He would have loved to kick their faces into the abyss. Ogron stands up and heads back to the cave. He is the leader and he shall make sure that those Fairies get sealed away again, with or without his little brother by his side.

*


End file.
